


Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

by Kereea



Series: Only AUs Can Be Happy [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Magic, Multi, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ramsay is his own warning, Robb is Grey Wind, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Fleeing an abusive master, Reek finds a supposed old friend of his…who happens to be a steward of the Old Gods and spends a good deal of time as a giant, nigh-unstoppable wolf.</p><p>Well okay. That’s much better than Ramsay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

He’d expected a dog, a hunting dog, one of Ramsay’s prize bitches hunting him down. This, though, was a wolf the size of a horse.

Well, at least it would only eat him, instead of bringing him back to Ramsay. Frankly that was better.

The beast snarled at him, but Reek only sank to his knees. No use fighting it, really. Sooner the thing got to his neck to stomach, sooner it’d be over.

“Beg.”

Reek blinked. The wolf just…spoke? “E-excuse me?”

“Are you going to beg or not?” the wolf asked darkly.

“N-not really, no,” Reek said.

The wolf slowed its furious circling, “…Why not?”

“I’m rather okay with it, really. Go ahead, eat me.”

The wolf sat down, “Explain. I may let you live.”

“I…I’d rather you didn’t. I’m just going to keep walking if you do, probably die in a few days anyway. Shocked I haven’t yet, really. You might as well get a meal.”

“Why did you come so near the Wall?”

The Wall? How far had he run? He knew it had been days, he knew he’d barely slept…

“I didn’t come. I ran away. Just happened to be in this direction, sorry if I trespassed but…look, if you won’t kill me, I need to keep moving. He’ll find me. Please.”

The wolf stood and Reek wondered at just how relieved he felt that it would soon be over.

But the wolf only advanced slightly. “You smell-”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to bathe, really.”

“No. You smell _familiar_ ,” the wolf said. “Who are you?”

“Reek. Rhymes with weak…meek…” he shrugged.

“I never knew a Reek. Who are you really?”

“I…he calls me that, says I’m that. I don’t-”

The wolf’s muzzle was suddenly to his chest and he heard it inhale sharply. The beast’s head snapped up, nose just missing Reek’s chin, and it stumbled back. It looked funny and he wanted to smile at it, but Ramsay had always struck him for smiling. Reek had an ugly smile.

“Theon?”

It sounded familiar. “I…I don’t know. Maybe? I know he wanted me to not answer to something, a long time ago…”

“Theon Greyjoy,” the wolf said, its voice devoid of all ferociousness now and almost gentle in its tone. “You...w-who did this to you?”

“My master. Please, ser wolf, just kill me,” Reek said.

“ _No._ Never.”

“Then I need to go,” Reek said, stumbling to his feet.

“No!” the wolf said, blocking his way.

“Please!” Reek sobbed. “He’ll catch me, he’ll…”

“He will _not_ ,” the wolf said. “I won’t let him, Theon.”

The name sounded so strange but at the same time it made him feel warm. Could it really have been his name?

The wolf’s ears pricked, “Dogs.”

“No.” Reek barely registered that he was speaking aloud. “No, no, it’s him, he’ll find me, he’ll make me go back, please, please just _kill me_!”

“Get on,” the wolf said, crouching. “I can outrun any horse, some mangy dogs are nothing.”

He couldn’t hear the hounds yet, so it was unlikely any human coming could hear him. Maybe that was why he softly said “Okay” and climbed onto the beast.

.o.o.o.

Reek awoke in a cave. It was dark and there was something large and warm wrapped about him…he almost panicked but it was far too hairy to be his master, what was it?

“Theon? You all right? You passed out…”

It rushed back to him. The wolf. “A-are you a messenger of the North’s Old Gods? A servant, maybe?”

“Yes,” the wolf said. “In a way. Theon… _Theon_ , what happened to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reek said. “I’m sorry, I…I don’t.”

The wolf shifted and Reek felt hot breath on his face, “I knew you. Theon…I…you didn’t look like this or act like this… _please_.”

“I don’t think I ever knew a talking wolf,” Reek whispered. “I think I’d remember that even if my master wanted me to forget it.”

“Not a wolf,” the wolf said. “You knew a boy. He was littler than you and you taught him to shoot.”

“To…shoot?” Reek closed his eyes. He always liked looking at the archers at the Dreadfort, something about it made him happy. But he couldn’t shoot, he was clumsy and lacked fingers…but he hadn’t always, had he? “I… _I_ used to shoot? A bow and arrow?”

The wolf whined softly, “How do you not remember? You loved archery…”

“My master must have wanted me to forget.”

“Is your master some rogue sorcerer, then?” the wolf asked hatefully.

“No. He’s a man. But a powerful man,” Reek said. “He…he’d ask me things. And if the answer was wrong he’d beat me until I got it right…I’m stupid, I needed help getting it right.”

The wolf withdrew, snarling.

“Tell me his name!” he ordered, pacing the tiny cave. Reek’s eyes weren’t adjusted to see much more than the outline of its form, but its eyes were catching some light…perhaps the cave’s entrance was behind Reek? “Tell me his name and I shall-”

“No! He’ll kill me!”

“NO! I will kill HIM!” the wolf roared, its fur standing on end.

Reek curled up in fright. He’d made his new friend angry. The wolf would probably have to hurt him now, for his idiocy.

The growling stopped. A wet nose bumped his head, “Theon? Theon, I didn’t mean to scare you…it’s all right. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Why?” Reek asked. He was a foul friend, a burden to deal with, nobody really liked him he was lucky Ramsay only hurt him when he did…

“That boy you taught. Do you know his name?”

“I don’t even know I taught a boy to shoot. I don’t know how to shoot.”

“Robb Stark.”

Reek shuddered. The name felt familiar…so familiar… “I…”

He recalled some things. A little boy with copper hair. Eyes, blue, but darker than Ramsay’s, warmer too. A young man with the same hair, same eyes, a wide grin, not ugly like Reek’s but really quite charming…a _voice_ , a happy, kind voice…

_“I’ll see you next year, then?”_

“I…I don’t think I saw him the next year.”

“You didn’t,” the wolf said, nuzzling him gently. “He never saw you again. But I just had to know-”

“You had to know? Why?” Reek asked.

The wolf stood up and started walking. When Reek did not follow, it turned to look at him until he stood and did.

They reached the mouth of the cave. There was more snow on the ground than yesterday, and the sun glinted off it wildly.

He could see a town in the distance, and the Wall beyond it.

Reek’s eyes went wide as the wolf suddenly reared onto its hind legs. Expecting death, for Ramsay had tricked him like this more times than he could count, Reek fell down, staring in shock as the wolf changed into a man dressed in dark grey.

The wolf’s fur had been gray like the clothes, but the man’s hair was copper. He knelt down, offering a hand. “Hello, Theon. I’m Robb Stark.”

Reek’s world went black.

.o.o.o.

“You just _showed_ him?”

“I had to! Jon, he-”

“You have no idea who he is!”

“Yes I do!”

“You knew him for, what, a few months if you string it all together?”

“He’s my friend! Jon, I _had_ to!”

Reek woke up in a bed. But Reek wasn’t allowed in beds, he didn’t deserve them…

“Theon!”

It was Robb.

His eyes went wide. He…he remembered Robb. It was faint, perhaps because he’d never dwelt on it enough for Ramsay to think it needed forgetting, but it was there all the same. As a boy, a sweet boy who he could easily see growing up into such a man. “Robb?”

“You remember me!” Robb crowed in joy. “Jon, he remembers me!”

“Wait, you brought him here and he had _no idea who you were_? Damn it, Robb, that’s kidnapping!”

Reek looked at the other man, a bit taller than Robb with curly dark hair and messy stubble.

“Someone made him forget. He told me so,” Robb defended. “And I asked if he’d come with me!”

Wait. Reek was not to be defended. He was never right, always wrong, he was stupid and silly…

“ _Made_ him forget…? A sorcerer?”

“A torturer,” Robb snarled, his eyes flashing. “Jon, _please_.”

“…I’ll break it to Father gently, then,” Jon sighed. “But you know he might still say no.”

“No he won’t. He’s too good a man,” Robb said, smiling.

Jon shrugged and left, and Robb raced to Reek’s side, “Theon, I-”

“I remember you. I…I don’t really remember a Theon, though.” He should get that out there. Robb might not like him for not knowing this Theon he was supposed to be, but Reek knew he’d get worse if he lied. He always was punished for lying, even when he telling the truth.

“I’ll help you remember,” Robb said softly. “Theon, I promise I’ll help you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why? What don’t you understand?” Robb asked.

Reek braced himself for what would surely come, but he said it anyway. “I’m Reek. Reek doesn’t deserve help, he’s weak and foolish and needs correcting all the time and should stop thinking, master thinks for him. Reek only exists because master wants him to and-”

“No,” Robb said firmly. “You exist because you deserve to. You seem to have survived hell, which means you’re strong. And you should never let someone else think for you. All right?”

Reek shuddered and even though he knew what disagreeing always brought him, he felt like he just had to explain things to Robb, “No. It…it makes no sense. I’m…that’s not how it works for me. I’m sorry!”

He tensed, waiting for the blow.

“Theon, I’m not going to hit you.”

Reek peered through his fingers at Robb, who hadn’t moved.

Robb looked like he wanted to cry.

Tears? Reek didn’t deserve tears, not even from himself. Ramsay said so.

“It was a Bolton, wasn’t it?”

“What?” Reek asked.

“Your master. He was a Bolton. You’ve been flayed all over, I can see the scarring,” Robb said softly. He reached out slowly and took the hand that was missing fingers. “What happened to these?”

“I asked him to cut them off.”

“Theon. That’s not the truth.”

“Yes it is! I asked, I begged!”

“Why did you beg?” Robb asked softly, but there was steel under the kindness.

“He…he was cutting at them. Took off the nails. Flayed the skin. Until I was grateful to be rid of them.”

“ _What_?”

Reek flinched at the new voice, so deep and stern. He scrambled on hands and knees behind Robb, too scared to think beyond knowing that at least Robb seemed unlikely to hit him for it.

“Father, not so loud. He’s already terrified,” Robb said, reaching behind himself to put a hand on Reek’s head.

Father was a big man, with long dark hair and a deep gray cloak. Nothing like Ramsay’s Father, a lean man with a pink cloak and gray hair.

Father looked at Reek, eyes going wide, “Gods…what on earth…”

“The Boltons. At least since the year when I didn’t see him anymore,” Robb said. “That’s…four, maybe?”

Father looked at Reek, “So, you’re Theon?”

“He says so,” Reek said. “I…master calls me Reek. It rhymes with weak.”

Father looked at Robb, who was shaking in what seemed like anger, but he wasn’t hitting Reek so it couldn’t be. Robb ran a hand through Reek’s hair gently, so gently, like Ramsay with his favorite dogs, “Whoever had him…tortured him into forgetting who he was. He only barely remembers me at all.”

“Very well,” Father said. “Theon, you’re not to tell anyone without the surname Stark of what you see here unless you know for certain they already know. The Stark family has its secrets and it needs them. Am I clear?”

Reek nodded slowly.

Stark family…he thought he knew the name. The Boltons didn’t like them. The Starks were…stronger than the Boltons, more powerful, older, and ruled more. Ruled near the Wall.

“He can stay. Keep him with you for now. I’ll see if Bran and Jojen have any ideas about fixing his mind if it’s as troubled as you say,” Father said, leaving.

Reek stayed where he was, letting Robb stroke his hair. It felt so nice and yet so strange to be touched so very gently.

“Theon?”

Reek made sure he answered, since the Starks clearly wanted him to think of himself as Theon, “Yes?”

“Do you want anything brought up? Some food, maybe?”

Reek tensed. Was this a test? “N-no. I don’t need anything.”

“Are you sure? You’re so thin…” Robb sighed. “Wait. Theon…Theon you can _want_ things, you know. I won’t be mad.”

No, no, it couldn’t be true. Reek should not want, Reek was too greedy for his own good, so Ramsay always had to make sure he didn’t have too much. “I…I…I don’t…I…”

“Theon, do you want something?” Robb repeated slowly.

“Please don’t ask me that. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“Wanting. I don’t know how, really. Not allowed to.”

Robb drew him close, still being gentle, so gentle. “I’ll help you, Theon. I promise.”

.o.o.o.

Reek stayed in the room. It was not Reek’s room, after all, Reek didn’t want a room anyway and didn’t need one, he wanted to stay by Robb as much as he could want anything. It was Robb’s room. Robb had a pretty simple room for a young lord, basic furniture and a big bed and bigger window.

Robb had offered to have a bed brought in for Reek, but then Reek had tried to tell Robb that Reek did not need a bed and Robb had given up and just kept Reek in his. But he did not want what Ramsay wanted whenever Reek was allowed the bed. He just wanted Reek to lie still and rest himself.

Robb kissed him sometimes, but he didn’t bite like Ramsay did, or make Reek kiss him back. He kissed him on the forehead and hair and once on the hand, on Reek’s bad hand. He held Reek, and petted his hair, and tried to make him eat food even though Reek knew he didn’t deserve that good of food, that he didn’t deserve to be treated so nicely.

He was even allowed to bathe when he asked. He tried not to do so too often, though, in case they thought he was being greedy.

Some days Robb didn’t come in, off doing his duty, and others he came back as the wolf.

Robb was a sort of guard for the Old Gods. He had to help protect the Wall and surrounding lands, like all Starks and Stark soldiers did, protect it from what was beyond it as well as from people getting too close who didn’t know what they were doing. But the Starks themselves had magic that let them do more than just stand at castles and swing swords.

Robb had the magic to be an unstoppable wolf and felt perfectly comfortable as wolf or human. Jon could summon ice and cold, and sometimes did so to make ice forts for Rickon Stark to play in. Ned Stark, whom Robb and John called Father, could make strong protective spells and had a magic sword.

Robb’s little brother Bran knew mind magic, as did his friend. So Bran and Jojen often came in to talk to Reek to see what they could do.

“It’s not magic,” Jojen told Robb while Robb stroked Reek’s back. “So it’s not as easy as just breaking a curse or something.”

“It…it’s bad in there,” Bran said, shooting Reek a sympathetic look.

Bran couldn’t walk. When he tried to look in Reek’s head, Reek’s legs felt funny too. Like he didn’t know what to do with them even though they did work.

“What can we do?” Robb asked softly.

“Well…it’s better than it was when we started,” Bran said.

“Remember when Sam got smacked in the head and didn’t remember Jon, Ygritte, and Gilly for a week?” Jojen said. “And then one day Ghost jumped on him and it somehow made him think? Maybe it’s like that, and something will remind him. He knows you, right Theon?”

Reek nodded. He knew more of Robb now. He remembered meeting him, being shorter and having whole hands and no friends until running into a chatty boy. But he only really remembered Robb, not much about himself at the time at all.

“Thanks,” Robb said. “Send some food up, will you?”

When Bran shut the door behind them, Reek looked up at Robb, “I want to remember you better. I want to remember it all. I’m sure it was good.”

“It was,” Robb said sadly. “Very good.” He took Reek’s bad hand. “I wish you’d tell me who did this.”

Reek shook his head. He just knew if he did Ramsay would somehow find him punish him. Bran knew from being in his head, but Reek had begged and begged and the boy had told his brother resolutely that he wouldn’t tell until “Theon” did because he thought it might make things worse somehow.

Robb laced their fingers together, “I wish you could trust me to protect you.”

“I can’t. I don’t des-”

“You deserve all I can give,” Robb said firmly. “You’re my friend and something horrid happened to you. I want to try and make it right.”

.o.o.o.

Robb had spent the past week trying to come up with something to remind Reek, but to his and Reek’s surprise it was Reek who had an idea.

“I…maybe…I should watch you shoot?” Reek asked. “If it was that special to you, maybe it was special to him…to me?”

Reek was having trouble of thinking of this Theon person as being him. Theon sounded so interesting while he was just Reek.

“That’s a great idea!” Robb said, hugging him.

They walked to the practice grounds. Robb’s sister Sansa could heal people, and while she could not bring back his fingers or toes she could make his feet hurt less when he walked.

Reek liked walking with less pain. He liked being able to not wince whenever Robb started going faster without thinking about Reek having to keep up.

Robb asked for bow and arrow as they reached the yard. Reek scuffed his boots in the snow as they waited, hoping he hadn’t been mistaken.

Robb shot a couple arrows. Reek was sad since he didn’t really remember anything but…but…

“R-Robb? C-can I try something?”

Robb went to hand him the bow but Reek shook his head. Hands shaking, he worked off what his head was telling him to carefully adjust Robb’s stance.

“ _You’re holding your arm wrong to keep the bow steady.”_

_“No, no, Robb, closer to your cheek.”_

_“Don’t bend that leg like that, like this, there you go…”_

Reek drew back and nodded slowly.

Robb shot, hitting far closer to the center of the target, “Wow. Thanks, Theon!”

_“Ha-ha! I did it! I did it! Theon, you’re the best!”_

Reek’s knees felt weak. His head hurt. He rubbed his temples.

He…he remembered Theon. Being Theon. Being Theon with Robb.

“Theon?”

Shaking, Theon Greyjoy lifted his head, “Robb…I…I remember-”

He didn’t even get to say _what_ he remembered as Robb wrapped him in his arms and spun him through the air.

“You do?” the Stark asked gleefully.

“I…I remember,” Theon said, letting his head rest on Robb’s shoulder. “I remember you. I remember the times we met. I remember when they gave me to Ramsay…”

“Ramsay?” Robb asked.

Theon shuddered, “Ramsay Snow. Bolton’s bastard son. He had me. He made me be Reek. I… I don’t want to be Reek again, Robb. Don’t let me, please!”

“Shh, shh,” Robb said. “ _Never_. He’ll never have you. I won’t let him.”

Theon sobbed against Robb’s shirt.

“What’s wrong? I swear, I won’t let him-”

“No, no Robb. Nothing’s wrong,” Theon whispered. “Everything’s right. I-I’m so _happy_ right now…”

.o.o.o.

Robb naturally had to ask him what Ramsay had done. Theon had been sorry to surprise him at just how much there was to tell.

It took three days to tell his tale, since often he just couldn’t go on and needed time to think. Three days of explaining how he fell into Ramsay’s “care” and his initial reactions to it, how he’d eventually broken, how he’d turned to being Reek and forgot, forgot, forgot…

How Ramsay took everything. _Everything_.

Robb had been livid. Only his need to stay with Theon seemed to keep him from rushing out multiple times to murder Ramsay. But Ned Stark had his own idea for dealing with the Boltons, one that did not involve sneaking in to murder a bastard but instead took the Boltons to task as a whole since Theon had admitted Roose and the rest had known what happened to him. Something that reflected the justice of the North.

Robb had snapped and snarled about it, but he’d eventually given in. Now Theon found himself curled about a wolf, exhausted from all he’d had to tell.

His bad hand ran down Robb’s back while his good stayed wrapped firmly around Robb’s neck. “I don’t mean to be scared. I’m not scared of _you_.”

“I know,” Robb murmured, his cool nose nudging Theon’s ear. “I…I can see why. Why you might think he could still hurt you, after all that. But he can’t. He won’t. Never again.”

Theon felt his lips trying to curve upwards but stopped himself.

“No,” Robb murmured, lightly rapping his knee with a massive paw. “Smile, Theon. I love to see you smile.”

“I can’t. It’s…it’s ugly.” Even if he ignored how Ramsay had taunted him over it his smile was crooked now, with missing teeth and scarred lips.

“No. It’s good,” Robb said. “Come on…”

Theon struggled against cracking a grin as the whining words trailed off into an outright whine.

“Come on. You know you want to,” Robb chuffed, pressing himself against Theon’s side. “Smile.”

Theon ducked his head.

“I’ll chase my tail. Don’t think I won’t. I actually kind of find it fun when I’m like this,” Robb cajoled.

“You know, how much…I guess…does your mind go wolf-like too or something?”

“Well…it’s hard to explain,” Robb said. “It’s sort of…always…got a bit of wolf there. That side just speaks a bit louder when I am one.”

“What’s that like?” Theon asked.

“It’s more…more pack-minded. Protective,” Robb said. “Good for a guardian. That’s why I was threatening you. You were getting too close to the Wall.”

“You attack anyone who does that?”

“Mostly I send them running,” Robb replied. “I only attack them if they mean me or the Wall harm. Or are trying to go past it since, well, then they run into the wights and such and we risk the Walkers attacking and it all goes to hell.”

“Oh. So…you were surprised I didn’t beg?”

“Some idiots forget to run. I let them beg and then send them off,” Robb chuckled. “But you…I had no idea what you were doing. Usually the big bad wolf routine works.”

“I was hoping you’d kill me fast,” Theon said. He found himself wrapped in gray fur as Robb curled around him.

“You won’t ever need to feel like that again,” Robb murmured. “I’ll keep you safe, Theon.”

“I…why, though?” Theon asked. “Okay, I’m a friend you made when when you were younger. So what?”

Robb didn’t answer, instead just rubbing his chin against Theon’s shoulder.

“All right, you pain in the ass. One smile if you chase your tail,” Theon sighed, shoving him away.

He froze in horror at what he’d just done, but Robb only barked out a laugh before racing after his tail in dizzying circles.

Theon couldn’t have held back a smile if he tried.

.o.o.o.

“Not after what happened.”

“Robb, have you seen how he looks at you when you’re not…looking, oh right..”

Theon frowned at the voices coming from Robb’s room. Sounded like Sansa was in there.

“Robb,” and her friend Margery too, he guessed, “He _adores_ you. Just tell him how you feel.”

Robb liked someone? Theon hadn’t heard anything like that. Robb mostly just talked about his family.

“I…I don’t want him to think he has to. You know how he’s been,” Robb sighed. “I can’t, no, I _won’t_ take advantage of him like that. I won’t ruin what we have just because…”

“Robb, you need to tell Theon,” Sansa implored.

Theon frowned. Why, did she think he could help or…oh. _Oh_.

No. There was no way in hell. He was deluding himself.

“I can’t just tell Theon how I feel, it’d panic him!”

Or not.

“Are you just going to stand here?”

Theon stifled a yelp and turned to see Jon’s woman, the fiery-haired Ygritte, staring at him impassively. “What?”

“Are you going to stand here and just listen, making yourself and Robb miserable, or are you going to act?”

“I…I can’t.”

She snorted, “Can’t, Theon Greyjoy? You say ‘can’t’ because you’re too _scared_ of what happens if you _do_ , not because you are truly incapable.”

“I don’t know if I am capable, though. Of being what he needs.”

“You know nothing, then,” Ygritte huffed. “Robb Stark! Open this door so you and Theon can cease this insufferable pining at once!”

“Oh gods no,” Theon muttered. He tried to run, but Ygritte kept a death grip on his shoulder as Robb’s door banged open.

She shoved Theon at Robb. Theon, still quite weak, would have gone down like a bag off rocks if Robb hadn’t caught him under the arms quickly.

“Ygritte, that was quite rude of you,” Margaery scolded.

“Your indirect counsel amounted to nothing. My way at least forces some sort of resolution to occur,” Ygritte replied.

“Oh, both of you come on,” Sansa sighed, seizing the older girls by the arms. “Robb, I’m so sorry. Theon, I’m more sorry. Ygritte, I think we need to _talk_.”

Theon started shaking as he and Robb were left alone. Robb carefully set him on his feet, “Shh, shh, Theon, no tears, please?”

“I’m sorry I…I just…I don’t…”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I thought you might not,” Robb said with a sad smile. “We can still be friends, Theon.”

“That’s not it.”

It wasn’t it. He knew he liked Robb, knew he’d more than liked Robb in the past and would like to again but…

“It’s…just look at me.” He looked nothing like he used to—he’d been handsome once, but not anymore. He didn’t look like someone a young lord would care for.

“I am. And?” Robb asked.

“Come off it, Stark. I don’t need your pity.” His eyes were starting to burn. He didn’t want to cry in front of Robb.

“It’s not pity. Theon, I do really like you.”

“Why?”

Robb rubbed his arm, “I just…I kind of _always_ had a crush on you. Ever since you taught me to use a bow. It’s…look, I know this sounds stupid and all and I’m not going to push my feelings off onto you or anything if you don’t want me to…”

“I…I just…I’m not the man you liked, then. You have to know that.”

“Yes you are,” Robb said, smiling softly. “You might not see it, but I do.”

Theon really had no idea what Robb was on about. But…well, Margaery had been right, he did rather adore Robb. The man was handsome and kind and protective… “All right. What do you want to do, then?”

“Theon, this is about what _you_ want,” Robb said gently. “I don’t want you to do something just because you think it’s something I want.”

“But…if…maybe…I want what you want?” Theon asked. “Like…I might…want to kiss you?”

“Really?” Robb looked very eager at the idea.

“Really,” Theon said. “I…I don’t think I could…you know, fuck or anything but…I like you. I do. You…you make me feel really…nice.”

It sounded so stupid in his head. But Robb seemed to like it.

“Come here,” the redhead said, pulling him close. Robb’s lips were soft and Theon wondered how his own scarred ones compared.

It felt so good, so safe in Robb’s arms as the kiss broke. Theon frowned in confusion as Robb rubbed his chin against Theon’s cheek. “What…why are you doing that?”

Robb blushed, “I…when I’m a wolf it…kind of…says you’re mine. I…I don’t think about it, really, just instinct, and if makes you uncomfortable-”

“I like it. Being yours,” Theon said. “And not just because it’s better than being…you know.”

“Being mine means I’m yours too,” Robb said, kissing him again. “Remember that.”

.o.o.o.

“I have to go,” Robb murmured as Theon woke up.

“Duty?”

“Yes,” Robb said, kissing him. “Have a good day. I’ll be by in the evening, okay?”

“Okay,” Theon yawned as the form next to him shifted and the bed dipped beneath the wolf’s weight. “Come back safe.”

“I always do,” Robb chuckled.

Theon stretched as Robb walked out the door. He wondered what he should do with his day.

He spent most of his days with Robb, truly. And it wasn’t like when he’d been…what he’d been when he arrived, when he’d merely curled up and waited for Robb to come back, fearing Ramsay might somehow show up the whole time. He felt like he needed to be doing something, anything.

He stumbled out of bed. Sansa had managed to work a bit more magic on his feet so while they ached a bit now and then, it was frankly nothing compared to what it once was. It also had the side effect of him not really noticing cold floors, but according to her that was just the thick scar tissue.

His hair was cleaner now and a bit shorter, but it was still that abominable, sickly gray. At least it looked semi-decent if he brushed it. He was still missing teeth, though he had been teaching himself to keep his lips positioned to hide them.

There was also a small red mark on his left ear where Robb had nipped him last night without thinking. Theon hadn’t really known how to take it but Robb had spent a good few minutes panicking that he might have frightened Theon over it.

Really, the man was too adorable to be terrifying. Theon chuckled softly and combed a few strands forward to hide the mark.

After making sure he looked decent enough he turned to the chest of drawers. He’d mostly just been wearing Robb’s clothes, but lately he’d seen some black and green-gray items in the chests that were smaller. He assumed Margaery had put them in. Seemed like her. She was determined to find “his colors” or something.

The point was he had clothes that marginally fit his bony frame now. He pulled on a shirt, pants, and boots before taking Robb’s spare cloak and heading out into the fortress to see what he could find.

.o.o.o.

Theon laid his head against Robb’s back, “Your sister likes a smith.”

“No, Sansa likes Margaery,” Robb corrected, tail swishing lazily against the rug.

Theon smiled, looking at the fire instead of Robb, “Arya.”

“...Arya’s discovered boys?” Robb yelped, leaping to his feet.

Theon hissed as he almost fell face down on the rug. “Calm down, Robb. It’s one boy. That’s not so bad.”

“Arya and _boys_ ,” Robb whined. Theon chuckled and rubbed behind his ears. “Ohhh…”

“You’re so annoyed I know about that, huh?” Theon muttered. “Big bad wolf likes his ears scratched…”

“It’s because it’s you,” Robb sulked. “But really? Or are you testing out your rediscovered sense of humor?”

“Not to say I don’t think it’s a bit funny how you’re taking it but no, I’m not joking,” Theon said. “He’s a southern guy, about your age-”

“A _southerner_! _My_ age?” Robb demanded.

“I pity Arya already,” Theon laughed. “Shh, shh, Robb, it’s fine. It’s just a little crush.”

He wrapped his arms around his wolf’s neck, pressing his face under Robb’s chin while his fingers continued playing with Robb’s velvety ears.

“You’re insidious,” Robb huffed, going to lie back down.

“I’m helping,” Theon said. “Better you find out from me, right?”

“I suppose…still a nasty shock.”

“Robb. She’s still your sister. She still loves fighting and war stories and summoning knives from thin air to attack things. She just now knows that boys are a thing she might like to get to know more about one day.”

“You’re so reasonable,” Robb grumbled. “Stop it.”

“No. I think you like having someone check you sometimes,” Theon said, sprawling out next to Robb.

“I suppose I do,” Robb chuckled, turning his head to gently lick Theon’s cheek. “Theon?”

“Hmm?” Theon asked.

“I love you. You know?”

“Yeah. I know,” Theon sighed happily. “And I love you too, my overly excitable pile of fur.”

He laughed as Robb’s tail smacked his back.

.o.o.o.

Theon shook his head as Robb peered around the corner. “Robb. You are the future lord of Winterfell. You are _incapable_ of sneaking anywhere.”

Robb gave him an exasperated look, “I just want to make sure she’s being safe.”

“There’s four other people in there with her and the guy. He tries anything on Ned Stark’s little girl and his brains would be on the walls, hell, on the _ceiling_ ,” Theon shrugged.

“She doesn’t even need knives!” Robb muttered as Arya casually placed an order with Gendry Waters, who seemed oblivious to her eyes lingering on his arms and chest.

“Calm. Down,” Theon said.

Robb growled low in his throat and Theon calmly reached up to rub behind his ear. “Would you not?”

“But you love it.”

“I’m trying to focus,” Robb said.

“On your sister ogling someone?” Theon asked. “I’m sure you could focus on something else…”

“Theon…”

“She’s perfectly fine,” Theon said. “You’re driving yourself nuts here and I hate seeing you upset especially when you have no reason to be. How about we go back to the castle and you work on your swordplay and I work on my aim? Take your mind off this?”

“Theon…”

“Or I’ll walk in there and commission some new arrowheads and Arya won’t be surprised to see you far behind…”

“This is supposed to be without her noticing.”

“Well I won’t let you drive yourself insane, Robb, take it or-”

“Go commission the arrowheads,” Robb said.

“As you wish,” Theon said, heading into the shop.

.o.o.o.

Winterfell had a rather decent marketplace. Theon had been using it for weeks to build up his tolerance to large groups of people.

Today Margaery had dragged him down to the clothing shops to make him get new clothes for a large Northern meeting the Starks were having in a few days. She’d insisted Robb not come so Theon could “get his wolf really salivating.”

Theon really hoped if she broke into metaphors again they wouldn’t all be comparing him to dinner.

“You know, it needs to have some golden yellows. To bring out your eyes.”

“Tyrell, I’m a scrawny, battered, unattractive guy. Clothes don’t fix that.”

“Theon Greyjoy you will try that tunic on and you will like it,” she replied calmly. “Just _think_ of the look on Robb’s face!”

“Okay, okay,” Theon muttered.

“Oh, with this belt,” she added. “So it hangs correctly.”

“Do I just look like a doll to you?” Theon asked before turning towards the changing room the shopkeeper had in the back.

“Of course not—hey!”

Theon turned back to Margaery to ask what was wrong.

He dropped the clothes.

“Who do you think you are?” Margaery demanded imperiously of the man who had apparently jostled her in pursuit of Theon.

Ramsay Snow.

No. No no no.

“Well, well, well,” Ramsay chuckled, ignoring Margaery altogether. “Look what I find in the cracks of Winterfell…”

Reek stumbled back.

“Theon, run,” Margaery instructed calmly, reaching to her left.

“Stay out of this, bitch—arg!” Ramsay hissed as Margaery slammed a platter full of jewelry into his face and rushed to the other end of the store, ducking behind the shop counter and its beefy attendant.

Reek ran as soon as he saw her swing the platter. He tore out into the street, trying not to slide in the slush on the ground as he fled.

“Get back here, Reek!”

He told himself not to listen, not to slow down, not to do what Ramsay said. He just ran.

He ran through the gates of Winterfell’s keep, hearing Ramsay still behind him.

A loud roar split the air.

Reek ducked as Robb, in his wolf form, jumped over and and landed firmly between him and Ramsay.

Ramsay skidded to a halt.

Reek swallowed as Jon and his friends stormed out the doors after Robb, all armed. Even Gilly.

“What the hell is this?” Ramsay demanded.

“This is us arresting you. We were going to do it at the meeting, but then you just had to go and threaten Robb Stark’s Greyjoy,” Ygritte said casually as she trained an arrow on Ramsay. “Seems Robb’s direwolf agrees.”

“Ramsay Snow of House Bolton you are under arrest for violating Northern Law regarding slavery, torture, and unlawful capture and imprisonment,” Jon said calmly, pulling out a pair of shackles while keeping his sword in his other hand. “You have the right to a cell and a trial, however please feel free to waive that right by attacking Theon so we can just kill you here.”

Jon Snow advocating the non-honorable option? It made Reek’s head spin.

“Be a good wolf and take him to Robb, will you?” Samwell asked Robb as Gilly twitched her daggers at Snow when he looked to be considering attacking Jon.

Oh, right. Robb was supposedly Robb’s pet for people no in the know. Reek stumbled back to his feet under Ramsay’s cold gaze, Robb quickly at his side.

Robb steered Reek through the halls of Winterfell until they reached their room. Robb changed back into a human and opened the door. “Theon, what happened?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Theon,” Robb sighed, cupping Reek’s face in his hands. “No. Don’t be sorry. Tell me what happened.”

“He…he was in the store. Margaery hit him so I could run. I ran here.”

“Gods. I didn’t even know the Boltons were in the city,” Robb said. “I’d never have let you out alone if I knew. And as soon as I heard-”

“It’s all right,” Reek said, shrugging.

“Theon, no, no, look at me,” Robb said. “Remember my promise? He will _not_ hurt you. I will _not_ allow it.”

Reek cried, “I’m sorry, I should believe you, I should, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, shh, Theon, It’s okay, it’s okay,” Robb whispered, drawing him close. “He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him, remember, you’re mine and I’m yours, I promise, for now and always.”

Reek buried his face in Robb’s neck, “I wish seeing him didn’t make me like this. I wish I didn’t stop…stop being Theon because of him.”

“You’re still Theon,” Robb said firmly.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because the wolf tells me Theon is my mate, and I know _you_ are my mate,” Robb breathed in his ear. “I know you’re mine and I will protect you until the end of time if you’ll let me.”

Theon’s knees gave out and he fell against Robb.

“My wolf,” he muttered fiercely. “My wolf, my lord, my Robb, _mine_.”

“Yours,” Robb agreed, his arms holding Theon tight. “Yours.”

.o.o.o.

Theon checked his hair in the mirror again. It was still no darker than when he came to Winterfell, but it was at least back to its old length without looking wretched. He had nice gloves to hide his left hand’s missing fingers.

And he wore Stark colors. The grays felt comforting.

“You look amazing. Guess Margaery should just shop for you from now on,” Robb teased, a finger tracing the golden-yellow edging on Theon’s tunic.

“I’ll have her get you a new coat then,” Theon said, smirking.

“I said for you, not me,” Robb laughed, kissing him. “Gods, now I don’t even want to go to the meeting. Just look at you.”

He leaned over Theon’s shoulder to peer at them both in the mirror. Theon smirked slightly at the odd picture they made, Robb with his handsome looks, auburn hair, and sky blue eyes and Theon with his dingy gray hair, stilly-slightly-starved-looking face, and…all right, his gold-ish eyes were pretty okay.

A low rumble rose from Robb’s chest.

“Down, boy,” Theon teased.

Robb buried his nose in Theon’s neck, blushing, “I know, I _know_. You going to be all right?”

“What, about the other Boltons? Unless you’re letting Ramsay out of his cell to come too, like an idiot,” Theon shrugged.

“All right then,” Robb said, kissing his neck. “Shall we?”

.o.o.o.

The Starks had really gone all out on their prestige for tonight. Apparently this was some yearly meeting that Ned Stark was also happening to appropriate for justice against the Boltons.

Sansa and Margaery looked like princesses that had stepped out of some grand song. Jon, and more shockingly Ygritte, had cleaned up from their typical furs and armor. Even Arya had deigned to brush her hair and wear a necklace over a new, clean dress…though Theon had seen pants and boots when she’d sat down and her skirt shifted.

Robb had sat next to his father, putting Theon near the center of the table as he was placed right next to Robb.

This left him with a perfect view of the Boltons, and they of him. And he’d seen Roose Bolton’s eyes go wide.

He kept Robb’s hand in a tight grip under the table.

Ned Stark called the meeting to order and began addressing the lords in the order they’d arrived in the room. Which coincidentally left the Boltons for last.

The Umbers were having a trade dispute with the Manderlys. Ned worked it out quickly with a promise to send Robb by to check on it personally in a few months. The Karstarks’ farmers had been hampered by illness so they had been unable to pay their usual taxes. Ned gave them a stay until next year.

The Boltons really only had one complaint: that Roose’s bastard son had been detained without cause.

“I’m afraid we disagree, Lord Bolton,” Ned Stark said solemnly. “We have all the cause in the world to hold Ramsay Snow. Just as we may in fact have cause to hold some more of you.”

“What?” Lord Bolton demanded.

“We saw your face when you saw Theon Greyjoy,” Ned said. “You recognized him. Which sadly lends quite a bit of credence to his accusations.”

“And what are those accusations, _Lord_ Greyjoy?” Bolton asked.

Theon felt his throat go very dry, but Robb answered in his stead, “That for over four years your bastard son held him prisoner, tortured him, and the very _second_ Ramsay Snow saw Theon again he tried to chase him down to do him harm.”

“And what’s more,” Ned Stark said, “Theon confirmed for us that his imprisonment occurred at the Dreadfort. Your home and stronghold, Roose.”

Bolton was unmoved, “I had no idea.”

“You did.” Theon swallowed. “You did, _you did_. You…you saw. You…you and _plenty_ of your men saw!”

Robb held his hand tighter under the table.

“The full details will occur at the trial, Roose,” Ned said. “You can come quietly or you can be arrested forcefully.”

Theon watched as the other main houses in the room subtly turned themselves towards the Boltons in case Ned Stark did ask them to aid in restraint. Ygritte looked ready to jump the table and take Roose on herself, but then that was Ygritte. She was like that when she perceived injustice.

“I think you are making a mistake,” Roose said simply.

“I do not. I made inquiries as soon as I saw some of Theon’s injuries,” Ned said. “I have more evidence than just his word. However you deserve to be judged by your peers and so I waited until they would be gathered. You’ll be tried in the morning along with your bastard and some of your men.”

.o.o.o.

Robb gently petted Theon’s hair as they waited for the trial to start, but Theon couldn’t relax. He had to prove his statements about his tortures were true.

He had to show everyone in the courtroom his scars.

“It’ll be fine,” Robb said. “Shh, Theon. It’ll be all right.”

“If Ramsay makes one move he will be in trouble,” Lady Catelyn said calmly. “Jon Snow and his friends won’t let anything happen, to say nothing of the regular guards.”

Sure enough Jon stood directly beside his father, with Ygritte and Samwell near the accused’s stand. Sam’s multiple dragonglass knives were prominent on his belt, and Ygritte had switched her bow for a pair of hatchets and a longknife.

Ramsay was hauled in by multiple guards and Theon noted that he was bound by far more than just shackles on his wrists and ankles.

“That seems an interesting amount of restraints,” Ned observed .

“He tried killing the person who brought him food to escape. Twice,” one guard supplied.

“Well, Ramsay Snow, you seem determined to add to your list of crimes,” Ned said calmly.

“Theon,” Robb said lowly. “He can’t even move anything but his head, he can’t hurt you. Stop shaking.”

Theon instantly hated himself for it, for showing fear in front of Ramsay. But he knew _that_ feeling wasn’t really what Robb wanted either and that it was a bad thing to feel. This…none of this was his fault. It was Ramsay’s.

“Ramsay, you have quite a lot of charges against you,” Ned Stark said. “Including but not limited to the imprisonment, torture, and forced servitude of Theon Greyjoy and hunting a whore down with your dogs when you didn’t feel like paying her.”

Theon shuddered. Poor Jeyne with the red hair. He’d mentioned it briefly, when discussing Ramsay’s idea of “hunting” during his long tale of what had happened to him, but by the sound of things Ned Stark had even more information on it than Theon had recalled. Theon didn’t remember anything about payment being involved.

“I don’t see why you’re just taking his word on it,” Ramsay said simply. “One man’s word, especially against my word and my father’s word and the words of others isn’t worth much.”

“I have the written testimonies of two brothel owners, one cook, two maesters, and three guards,” Ned replied.

“Out of curiosity…how?” Theon asked as Lord Stark begun reading said testimonials aloud.

“King’s Landing’s Master of Whispers got involved. He did not like what he heard from us and looked into it himself,” Robb replied. “He said he has no love of torturous kidnappers.”

“And how did you talk to him?” Theon asked.

Robb replied, a bit smugly which was odd since smug was not normally his sort of attitude but this being about hurting Ramsay, well, Theon would let it go, “Father is King Robert’s best friend and the Hand’s former foster son. The king’s council wanted this to go to the meeting so the North didn’t have a war on its hands because then they’d have to intervene.”

“Ah. Good plan,” Theon said.

“Are you going to be all right for this?” Robb asked.

“I…I have it under control. Something tells me your father knows what to look for if I’m slipping,” Theon said. He’d been Reek around Ned Stark long enough for the man to know how it was different from him being himself.

Theon winced at a low crack to his left, and upon turning saw that it was Lady Catelyn’s nails digging into the wood of her chair as her husband read a report from a cook about recalling going to feed the dogs and seeing Theon chained in the pen with them.

“This…how did no one know this?” she hissed. “Why did no one come forward?”

“Anyone who would have was killed,” Theon replied. “That’s what they did to the whores. And several of their own guards.”

Hell, one of the letters was from a maester whose hands Ramsay had threatened to cut off when the man had apparently been “too kind” to Theon when treating an infection. An infection Ramsay had _told_ him to treat since he wanted his plaything alive.

It was bastards like that that made people think bastards like Jon Snow had to be bad news too. But the common surname wasn’t getting Ramsay any sympathy now; Jon looked like he would be fine if his father suddenly ordered him to just go over and stab Ramsay until he died.

Theon played with the empty fingers in his left glove. He’d have to take it off, along with his shirt and…well, actually hopefully not his pants too. Maybe just his boots.

“And of course our other witness, Theon Greyjoy,” Lord Stark said and Theon felt his mouth go very dry. He stood, forcing his knees not to shake, and made his way to the so-far-empty witness stand.

He could feel Ramsay’s cold eyes on him. He saw Sam shift slightly, to put himself more between Ramsay and Theon.

Silently thanking the other man, Theon locked his gaze with Ned Stark’s, “Lord Stark.”

“Do you swear that all you say is true?”

“Yes, my lord,” Theon said.

“You claim Ramsay Snow captured you and held you for four years until your escape five months ago?”

Had it really been so long? Well, it was harder to gauge the time he’d been here as Reek… “Yes.”

“You claim you were starved, flayed, maimed, and tortured in other ways?”

“Yes,” Theon said.

“Could you tell us how you lost your fingers?”

Theon nodded and took off his left glove. “The small one was because I insisted my name was Theon, not another name he tried to make me use.” Somehow Ramsay’s glare became more noticeable. “The…the next…I’d tried to run away. With a serving girl he’d been raping and cutting. He…he caught us with his hounds. She died. I…he just took my finger. After making me watch her die slowly.”

That was also when the raping had started for him but no one needed to know that. And unless Ramsay decided to brag about said raping, it would stay that way.

“You are also missing toes?”

“Yes. My lord. I…don’t quite recall why he took them, though,” Theon said. “But…but like with my fingers, he’d flay them so badly I’d beg him to just cut them off.”

“See, he asked me to do it,” Ramsay said nonchalantly. “Can you charge me for doing what he asked of me?”

Theon heard a low growl over from the platform the other Starks were on. It seemed Robb wasn’t any happier than he was about that comment.

“I can when you all-but forced him to ask it,” Ned replied. “Theon, can you tell the court of anything else?”

“He flayed pretty much everything at some point or other,” Theon replied. “It…it’s quite visible. That…that’s why anyone would need to know about it, in the Dreadfort. Because I…he mostly just kept me in breeches only, and so it was quite visible.”

“The court will make sure to recall that for Roose Bolton’s trial,” Ned replied. “May we see the evidence?”

Theon nodded, fingers fumbling with his tunic and shirt. He finally managed to get them over his head.

He heard a choked sob from the Starks’s area, and a quick glance showed Lady Catelyn’s eyes were wide with shock and her hand was fisted over her mouth. Robb, though, Robb knew already, so he merely looked furiously at Ramsay, his fingers delicately raking against his pants as if wishing he could grow his claws and go for Ramsay with them.

Theon knew it looked bad. He’d seen it in a mirror, all the patches of different pinks crisscrossing his torso all around, deep gashes from whips and knives here and there…it looked bad. So very bad.

He made the mistake of glancing at Ramsay.

The bastard was nearly _salivating_.

“May I dress, now?” Theon asked sharply.

“Yes,” Ned said firmly. “I think we’ve seen enough. Your testimony will be remembered for Roose Bolton’s trial. You may go.”

Theon wanted to walk back to the other Starks, to watch Ramsay’s guilty sentence handed down, but frankly he couldn’t take it. Robb obviously knew as he was standing next to the witness stand by the time Theon had pulled both his shirt back on.

“I’ll escort him back to his room, Father,” Robb said.

The hate was back in Ramsay’s eyes but it was directed at…Robb?

Coupled with the look Theon had just gotten it made such twisted sense that Theon had to work not to burst out in hysterical laughter right there. It was so _sick_ it made sense as the way Ramsay saw the current situation.

Robb walked him through the halls and up the stairs until they reached their room, “Are you all right?”

“I…I could sit down,” Theon said.

“You have this odd look in your eyes,” Robb said, leading him to the bed.

“I…when I took my shirt off. Did you see how he looked at me?” Theon asked as they sat.

“All too clearly,” Robb said darkly, the wolf entering his voice for a moment.

“And…and before we left,” Theon said, a sad hiccup of laugher making its way into his voice. “H-he…did you see how he looked at you?”

“Me?” Robb asked.

“He…I think he’s jealous. Of you,” Theon chuckled as tears pooled in his eyes. “Be…because to him I might have just been some toy, but I was _his_ toy. And he’s mad that I’m not anymore. That I’m yours.”

“Mine,” Robb agreed, his arms winding tightly around Theon. “But not my toy. My Theon.”

“Your Theon,” Theon agreed. “I…gods, I’m sorry I’m crying.”

“Why?” Robb asked. “That had to have been hard for you. Don’t worry about it. You need to cry, cry.”

Hearing that, Theon let go. He collapsed against Robb, trusting his wolf to hold him up, and sobbed.

“It…he…he always seemed so…so powerful. So much more than a man. Untouchable,” Theon said.

“Because that’s what he wanted to be to you,” Robb replied. “So you’d be afraid.”

“And…and _that’s_ who I feared,” Theon muttered. “A bastard who’s got nothing the second he’s brought forward for his crimes. All he can do is confirm what he did, standing there like an idiot. And I _feared_ him.”

“Were you in a position to do otherwise? Not then, no. And…do you fear him now?” Robb asked.

“No. I hate him,” Theon said. “I don’t fear him. I just…hate what he does to me. What he did to me.”

He ducked his head so he could nudge it under Robb’s chin. The chinning might have been instinct for Robb, but it had become something of a comforting ritual for Theon too.

Robb obliged him, gently rubbing his stubbly chin over Theon’s hair. “It’s over. Or it will be tomorrow, when his head rolls.”

“What of his father?”

“That’s a bit more complicated. His people will probably try to rebel or something. But he’ll be facing similar,” Robb said. “The North outlawed a lot of what they did to you a long time ago. And if they’d do it to a Greyjoy, another lord…what have they done to common people?”

“That’s a…a good point,” Theon said.

“We’ll likely jail him for a while. See how his people take it,” Robb said, shrugging. “My father knows the way to pick these things better than I do. If I had my way…”

“That’s because this is personal for you,” Theon said. “I’m sure if this wasn’t so close you’d probably be able to make a very good judgment on it.”

“Thanks,” Robb said. “I still have a long way to go.”

“Not really,” Theon said. “I’ve seen you shadow your father some days. I think you’ll make a good lord.”

Robb’s smile was like the sun, “Thank you. It means a lot, from you.”

Theon smiled back.

.o.o.o. _Epilogue_ .o.o.o.

“So, Theon, feeling jealous?” Sansa asked.

“Dreadfully,” Theon replied dryly. “I mean, she gets a new dress and everything.”

Margaery fell against Sansa, laughing. “Oh, it’s the _dress_ you care about. Silly me, I thought it was the man!”

“Like I’m enough of an idiot to think _you_ want Robb,” Theon replied.

Robb’s tail smacked him in the head. Theon quickly went for his ears and Robb practically melted.

“Oh come on!” Sansa laughed. “It’s still funny having you marry Margaery, Robb!”

“We should really just marry you two,” Margaery mused, looking between Sansa and Theon. “Would make it easier for the Starks’ secrets to stay secret.”

“You mean it makes it easy for you to know no one’s making eyes at Sansa when you won’t know about it,” Theon replied as Robb huffed in amusement.

“Well, yes,” Margaery said. “Your wolf might be a menace but mine’s more than a bit delicate.”

“She’s planned a setup like this for years,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. “Originally she was going to marry King Robert’s brother and I was going to marry her brother Loras.”

“…So the king’s brother is fucking yours?” Theon asked Margaery. She smiled back. “Amazing. So _clearly_ it’s not just a Northern thing.”

“How could it be a Northern thing with Margaery involved?” Sansa asked.

Theon shifted as the wolf beside him changed back into a man. Robb grinned at his sister, “Obviously you seduced her.”

Theon laughed and threw his arms around Robb’s neck.

“I won’t argue with that,” Margaery said, grinning.

“Wonder how King’s Landing will take the two most eligible bachelorettes in the realm being taken,” Robb wondered.

“Prince Joffrey could always pull a Targaryen and marry his sister,” Theon said.

“Theon, don’t you have a sister back home?” Sansa asked.

“Yes. If she wasn’t worried father might die when she’s gone and she could get ousted from sucession she’d have come by,” Theon said. “She’s the one who sent the letter about asking why the hell the North had to kill convicted people quickly instead of tormenting them. Nice to know she cares.”

“No, no, for the prince,” Sansa said.

Theon laughed, “She’d eat him alive!”

“Well, good luck to Joff, sounds like he’s not marrying any time soon,” Robb said.

Margaery looked terrified all of the sudden, “I just remembered. King Robert is supposedly interested with joining his house with the Starks.”

“…You think Arya only likes boys named Gendry, right?” Robb asked Theon.

“I would bet on it,” he replied.

“Oh,” Robb said. “Then I’m not worried.”

“Prince Joffrey should be the one worried in that situation,” Sansa agreed.

“Glad we cleared that up,” Theon said. “So, Sansa, how soon after them should we get married?”


End file.
